


The Gifts Of Spring

by BawdryWeirdsley



Series: The Valley Chronicles [1]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Secret Crush, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-20 19:30:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21061991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BawdryWeirdsley/pseuds/BawdryWeirdsley
Summary: The farmer has no intention of wasting an entire day of spring planting at the Flower Dance, but the villagers of Pelican Town have other ideas. And when Leah injures herself, Elliott’s left without a dance partner...





	The Gifts Of Spring

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set before the events of my other Stardew Valley fic, Strawberries and Sweet Peas.

“Thanks, Zac. We’ll be closed tomorrow for the Flower Dance, but of course we’ll see you there!”

Zac picks up the hefty paper sack of parsnip seed. “Actually I don’t know if I’ll make it. I have a lot of planting to do. And I’m pretty sure there’s another hole in the roof of the farmhouse. Every time I think I’ve patched them all the rain proves me wrong.”

Caroline looks scandalised. “But you can’t miss the Flower Dance! Everyone will be there. Even Marlon, though why I don’t know. _ He _ certainly never dances.”

“Uh, well, I’m not great at dancing either, really.” 

He maneuvers the sack of seed into his backpack. It’s heavy and he wants to get back to the farm in time to get it in the ground.

Caroline tuts. “You’re as bad as Abigail. _ She _ never wants to go either.”

“Because it’s silly,” calls a voice from the behind the shelf, where Abigail is straightening a row of sugar.

Zac grins. He likes Abigail.

“It isn’t silly!” says Caroline. “It’s important.”

He’s relieved when the shop bell jingles. Leah gives him a nod and a smile. He doesn’t know her well yet- she seems to spend most of her time in her cottage. She has a calm, quiet presence and actually seems to listen to what he says to her on the rare occasions their paths cross. And of course_ , _ she’s Elliott’s friend _ . _The last thing Elliott makes him feel is calm and quiet, but he finds himself thinking about him almost constantly nevertheless.

“Leah, tell Zac he has to go to the Flower Dance,” Caroline calls out.

Zac fully expects Leah to dismiss Caroline as easily as Abigail did, but instead her eyebrows shoot up, and she stares at him.

“What? Why wouldn’t you go?”

Zac’s a little taken aback. “Er, I have a lot to do on the farm. It’s kind of a steep learning curve.”

“Yes, but you _ can’t _ miss the Flower Dance!” Leah looks genuinely aghast at the idea.

Caroline nods. “That’s what I told him.” She fixes Zac with a firm look. “And you a farmer too!”

“What’s me being a farmer got to do with it?”

“The Flower Dance is how we welcome spring,” says Leah. “We thank nature for all the new, growing things in the world.” She nods at his sack of seeds. “You wouldn’t want to make the spirits of growing things angry, would you?”

She’s smiling a little, but Zac gets the feeling she isn’t entirely joking. A few months ago he’d have shaken his head over the idea of angering nature spirits, but life is very different out here. In the city the only hint of magic or spirits was the cunning men you called in if you had an infestation of slimes in the basement. Shabby old men in grubby suits who came in through the back door and drove ancient, rattling vans. They were hardly revered or respected. Out here though...he remembers his first glimpse of the strange beings in the Community Center, the green verdant haze of the Wizard’s concoction, how his mind seemed to shatter apart and fly out over the forest. There _ are _ spirits here- powerful ones- and offending them suddenly seems like a very bad idea. 

“Alright,” he says, “I’ll be there.”

“Excellent!” beams Caroline.

Abigail catches his eye on his way out. “Sorry. At least you won’t have to dance. There weren’t enough partners to go round even before you arrived, so you should be safe. Unless you feel like dancing with Seb and letting me off the hook?”

Zac feels himself blushing. Sebastian’s another one he doesn’t know well yet, and the very idea of asking the brooding young man to dance makes him feel cold with embarrassment. 

“Honestly, I’m not the dancing type.”

Abigail sighs. “Oh well, can’t say I didn’t try.”

* * *

He takes the long way back to the farm. The stocks of timber around the farmhouse are plentiful, but they won’t last forever, and the woods path is good for picking up deadfalls which he pokes into his backpack careful not to crush the parsnip seed.

Leah catches up with him right by Marnie’s ranch. Her red hair has come loose from its plait and her cheeks are pink from the exercise and the sea wind, which rustles the trees above them, dislodging a drift of fluttering pink blossoms. 

She’s an attractive woman, even he can see that. Is Elliott in love with her? They certainly spend a lot of time together. It makes sense really- she’s a sculptor, he’s heard. A writer and a sculptor are a good match. _ Unlike a writer and a farmer. _But it’s ludicrous to even think about that. 

Elliott is unfailingly polite when they meet on the beach (and they meet on the beach a lot- Zac showing far more interest in sea fishing than he might have done had anyone else lived in the cottage on the sand) but his miserable crush on Elliott is entirely one-sided, and if he means to stay here in the Valley he has to accept it. When Elliott and Leah dance together tomorrow he’ll smile and clap politely and agree with Caroline how lovely it all is. He certainly won’t be idiotic enough to feel actual jealousy. Elliott is kind to him because he’s good-hearted. That’s all. There’s no way anyone as handsome and refined as Elliott would look twice at some clodhopping farmer-who until recently was a drab, grey office drone.

“Sorry about that,” says Leah falling into step beside him. “I hope you didn’t feel too ganged up on.”

It would be easier to bear if Leah wasn’t so _ nice._ If she was as disdainful towards him as Haley for example, then he could just resent her for having Elliott’s attention. 

“It’s fine,” he says. “You’re probably right. I don’t know anyone well yet, and hiding away on the farm sure won’t change things. Lewis says I ought to try to make friends.”

Leah laughs. “He told me the same thing when I moved here. Elliott too. We all get the little speech.”

He hates how even the mention of Elliott’s name sends little shivers of electricity through him. It’s utterly ridiculous for anyone past their teenage years to react this way.

“Some of us are easier to thaw than others,” Leah continues, “but they’ll grow used to you soon enough.” Shaun and George she likely means. “And you to them. The Dance is a good place to mingle.”

“I suppose so. Abigail said no one would expect me to dance anyway. That there aren’t enough partners?”

Leah shakes her head ruefully. “_That’s _ for sure.” 

“But you’ll dance with Elliott?” Zac finds himself asking, hating himself. “You danced with him last year, or so I heard.”

Leah smiles at him, her brows furrowed. “Oh you did, did you?”

“Er....I think so, yes.” He could kick himself for being so obvious. The last thing he needs is Leah of all people guessing he has a thing for Elliott. Or even more awkward- thinking he’s hitting on her.

Leah shrugs. “I expect so- He did ask me, and he does like a dance. I have two left feet, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. It surprises me that you know so much about it though, seeing as you hate dancing.”

“Oh I do, but everyone’s being talking about this dance for a week. I think I must have overheard it in the Saloon.”

“You hear all sorts of things in there,” says Leah. She looks serious enough, but her mouth quirks up at the corner as if she’s trying to stop a smile, and her eyes sparkle.

“I heard Haley is always the Flower Queen too,” he babbles.

“That’s right. She dances with Alex, usually. Last year he stood on her shoe and pulled it right off her foot. I’ve never seen her so angry. Well, I have work to do too, so I’ll let you go. But you’ll _ definitely _ be there tomorrow, right?”

Zac has to laugh. “It sounds like I’ll never hear the end of it if I’m not.”

“That’s right,” Leah calls after him. “So be there!”

* * *

The path through Cindersap Forest has been marked out with strings of bunting made of bright paper flowers. Zac suspects Evelyn’s had a hand in their creation, or maybe Emily going by the bold colors. The long grass between the buntings has been trampled flat. Presumably he’s going to be the last to arrive. Watering the crops always takes longer than he thinks it will.

_ One of these days I’ll get myself a better watering can. _Add it to the long list of items that need his immediate attention.

He ought to resent the dance taking up so much of his valuable spring day, but now that the time is here, he feels almost excited. Perhaps taking a break will do him good? The woods are beautiful this time of year, with the trees in bloom and the wildflowers growing in lush swathes where the sunlight penetrates the canopy. The trail leads him away from the village towards the Wizard’s tower. He shudders a little, remembering the bubbling cauldron with its intoxicating scent, the bundles of strange herbs hanging from the rafters, and the gelatinous creatures shifting in murky jars on the cobwebby shelves.  
_ Spirits_.  
Is it really true that today’s festival is meant to thank the spirits of the Valley? Are strange inhuman eyes watching him even now?

_ Don’t start thinking about that. The human eyes will be bad enough without worrying about shadows_. He pauses to frown at his reflection in the slow-moving river. His clothes have not been much improved by his new lifestyle. The one good set of clothes he’d brought with him from the city barely fits him. They’re loose where the pouch of his desk jockey belly used to be, and tight where muscles have grown. He’s pleased with his new physique, but he wishes he had something that showed it off a little better.

_ Why bother? Who are you showing it off to? Even if he was interested in men, why would he be interested in you? _

The dance is set up in a wide meadow that he’s never visited before. The trunks of ancient trees form a natural wall around the velvety green turf of the dancefloor. It’s blessedly cool in here, and as he passes into the space he feels the small hairs on his neck stand up.

_ Spirits. Yes, I think there are spirits here. _

But that’s not the only thing that gives him a pleasant little shiver. Elliott’s standing by the river, alone. His suit is blue today, and he looks even more immaculate than usual.

Zac nods to Pierre who’s set up a stall brimming with potted flowers, caught in a little flurry of idecision. Should he go over there? Surely it would be rude not to. But isn’t it a little obvious if he makes a beeline straight for Elliott? 

“Hey Zac!” Emily gives him a cheery wave. Her white dress is sewed with intricate tucks and ruffles and she wears a red flower in her hair. 

As he looks around he sees that most of the younger villagers are dressed the same way. _ Great, as if I needed to look like even more of a slob. _

“Have you tried the red jelly yet?” Emily asks him. “I was so sure i was going to drop it down my dress that I brought this flower just so I could stitch it over the stain. That’s the good thing about making your own clothes. I was up until midnight sewing though.”

“You look great,” says Zac. “Uh, I didn’t really have anything to wear.”

Emily beams at him. “Well, hey, I’m always happy to run you up something. People in this town aren’t exactly fashion forward, but you come from the city, right? I bet you’re used to wearing all sorts of fancy things.”

“Kind of.”

“Are you dancing today?”

Zac glances up and sees Clint glowering at him. “I’m happy to watch. I’m not much of a dancer.”

“Oh I love to dance!” says Emily. “But I prefer to make up my own dances, really. The steps to this one are so dull, but I guess it’s tradition. Well, if you’re not going to dance then you don’t have to worry about eating too much. Try the jelly. Gus’s specialty.”

Zac promises to try the jelly, but the long feast table is crowded with chattering villagers and Zac doesn’t feel quite equal to the task of making smalltalk with them yet. 

Abigail lurks on the far side of the clearing with Sam and Sebastian. They're a few years younger than him, but Abigail is always easy to talk to, and he’s making his way towards them when he hears someone calling his name. Not just someone: _Elliott_.

His heart is tripping behind his ribs in an instant and his shirt collar feels three sizes too small. He tries for a casual stroll as he approaches the riverbank, and almost immediately catches his toe on some hidden tree root, stumbling awkwardly.

Polite as always, Elliott pretends not to notice, but Zac is even more flustered than he usually is when confronted by Elliott’s dazzling eyes and high cheekbones.

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen another person as beautiful in all his life, and Elliot looks particularly devastating today, the color of his suit reminding Zac of the blue-green ocean. The buttons are made of grey pearl, and the coat hugs his slender waist in a very distracting way. What woul it be like to put his hand on Elliott’s waist? To feel the rise and fall of his breathing, and the warmth of his body through that fine brocade.

“Zac?”

Zac blinks. “Er, sorry. I was just admiring your outfit. Everyone looks so dressed up.”

Elliott smiles. “I wore my best shirt for the dance...this kind of thing doesn’t happen very often.”

“Oh, well, you’re perfect. I mean you_ look _perfect. Not like me.”

“You look just wonderful,” Elliott says. “The spring sun has brought out your color. The great outdoors is the truest palette we can draw from to enhance the complexion. Well, perhaps not for myself. I tend to burn in the sun. If only I could be gilded by it as you are.”

If anyone else said something like that to him, Zac would think they were making fun, but he’s grown used to the way Elliott talks. In fact he finds it hopelessly charming.

“That’s kind. It’s probably more dirt than tan though. I lost track of the time, and I had to run here right after pulling weeds.”

“How is the farm going? It must give you such a sense of serenity, to be one with the land. To shape it into your own little world.”

Zac rubs his blistered palms on his pants and thinks back to his morning, screaming curses at a red-eyed crow, hauling water from the new well until his back sang and his shirt was soaked in sweat.

“Serene, yeah, kind of. But you do the same thing, don’t you? Creating worlds? It must be so much fun. I mean, I’m limited to dirt and parsnips, but you could put anything you want in your worlds. It must be nice having a creative mind. Being a writer.”

Elliott’s smile falters. “Yes! It’s wonderful. My cottage is so very silent. The perfect place to work.”

Zac can tell he’s discomforted. What did he say wrong? _ Well, that’s what you get for trying to pretend you know anything about writing _. If Elliott didn’t already think he was a schlub, he surely does now.

“So where’s Leah?” he blurts.

Elliott raises an eyebrow. “Good question! You know I wasn’t going to come today, but she absolutely insisted.”

“You weren’t? She said you liked to dance.”

Elliott shakes his head. “Oh, I do, but recently I haven’t quite been in the mood. Sometimes...” he pauses, considering. 

“Sometimes what?”

“Sometimes my cottage is _ too _ silent. I thought when I came here that it would be good for me, but...” he trails off.  
“Well, perhaps you understand? You’re an exile from the city too, aren’t you? Leah told me all about it. We think we’re escaping our troubles when we run to earth in places like this, but our troubles have an unfortunate habit of following along behind us.”

Zac is startled by the idea Leah and Elliott have been discussing him, and a little shocked to realise that someone who appears as perfect as Elliott might have troubles.

“It’s still a fresh start though,” he says, slowly.

“Like you said, we have the chance to build something new here. Making all the same mistakes again- it’s kind of a choice, isn’t it? Sorry, it’s probably not a great conversational topic for a spring dance.”

“I started it,” says Elliott. He frowns.  
“And I think you’re probably right. It’s a choice. I needed to hear that.”  
He seems to shrug off his seriousness all at once, smiling at Zac. “I wonder where Leah is? It isn’t like her to be late...”

His words are cut off off as Emily cries out in surprise. 

“Leah, what on earth happened?”

Zac turns around to see Leah hobbling into the glade. A homemade crutch is tucked under her arm and her right ankle is wrapped in a white bandage. Harvey hurries forward.

“I knew it! This forest represents a terrible tripping hazard. Not to mention the danger of falling pine cones and squirrel bites.”

“My goodness, Leah. Are you alright?” Emily asks.

Zac and Elliott join the crowd of villagers around Leah, who looks a little alarmed at all the attention.

“It’s nothing! I twisted it coming up the front steps last night- honestly Harvey, it’s fine. I’ve twisted this ankle before. I just need to give it a rest.”

“Is it swollen?” Harvey asks. “You really ought to let me take a look at it.”

Leah shakes her head. “No, it’s Okay, really. I wouldn’t have come here if I thought it was broken or anything.”

Elliott hurries to fetch Leah a chair, and Pam brings her a cup of wine.

“Are we starting soon?” asks Haley.

“We certainly should,” says Lewis, glancing at his watch. 

Slowly the crowd drift away leaving the three of them together. Leah gives Elliott a sheepish grin.

“Told you I was clumsy.”

“As long as you’re alright, my dear.”

“I am. But I don’t think I’ll be able to dance.”

“What?” asks Elliott, abruptly. 

“I feel terrible, letting you down, but as you can see it’d be impossible.”

Elliott is frowning and Zac is a little surprised. He’s being almost rude, which is very unlike him.

“Leah, really,” he begins but Leah cuts him off.

“But look, you’re all dressed up to dance.”

She turns now to Zac. “Hey, Zac, you don’t have a partner, do you?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Elliott doesn’t have anyone to dance with, _ you _ don’t have anyone to dance with. It’s perfect.”

Zac closes his eyes at the idea of taking Elliott’s hand in front of the whole village.

“I don’t really dance.”

“Anyone can dance,” says Leah impatiently. “Just move to the music. It isn’t difficult. If Shane and Harvey can do it I’m sure you can”

“Leah, he doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to,” says Elliott. He sounds embarrassed now as well as annoyed, and Zac can hardly blame him. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he stammers. “It’s just...” he trails off, unable to find the words.

“See?” says Leah. “_Ask _ him, Elliott.” her smile is distinctly mischievous.

Elliott sighs and turns to Zac. Is it his imagination or is Elliott blushing? 

“Zac, would you do me the honor of being my partner for the spring dance?”

Now it’s Zac’s turn to blush. He hates that he can’t stop himself. What can he say? To refuse would be even more awkward than to accept. Curse Leah, and her front step! He’d thought that watching the two of them dance would be excruciating, but this is even worse.

“I’d love to,” he says as casually as he’s able. “But I’m really not a dancer. If I step on your foot or anything, blame Leah.”

“Oh I will,” says Elliott, meaningfully. He frowns at Leah and something seems to pass between them- some private communication that he doesn’t understand.

“Alright, everyone, let’s get started,” Lewis calls. 

Gus is blowing into his tuba, and Caroline is plucking her harp strings, the two of them arguing over the right key. One by one the couples take their places at the center of the green.

“Last chance for a bold escape,” Elliott murmurs to him.

Zac laughs. “Same for you.”

And then because there’s nothing else for it, the two of them take their places, Elliott falling in line with the men, Zac taking Leah’s spot opposite him. Haley is muttering dance moves under her breath. Abigail is sighing deeply and tugging at the bow around her waist.

Zac feels foolish in his badly fitting clothes, but when he looks up and sees Elliott watching him the world falls away. He barely even hears the music start up. It seems to carry him forward unbidden, like a warm ocean current, and then Elliott’s hand slips into his. His fingers are long and cool and Zac feels a great thrill run through him. He puts his other hand on Elliot’s shoulder, and a wisp of the long red hair brushes his knuckles making him shiver again. Elliot’s arm is around his waist, and they’re _ dancing, _ close together. Elliott smells of wood and clean linen and faintly of the ocean- a clean smell of salt. Zac is aware that their faces are very close together and that Elliott is studying his own face intently.

“You dance well,” Elliott says, finally.

“Thank you.” Zac’s barely aware that he’s moving at all. It feels like he’s floating. 

“Are you nervous?”

“Not really.” 

It’s true. He doesn’t know what it is he’s feeling now, but it’s not nervous- stunned, probably. 

Elliott’s a good dancer, and Zac is more than content to let him lead. As the music continues Zac slowly becomes aware of his surroundings again, the thud of feet on springy turf, the murmured conversation of the villagers, the rustling of the trees above. He feels a great wave of contentment wash through him. Elliott might never love him, but they’re part of each other’s worlds now-The new lives they’ve made. Perhaps that can be enough?

One look up into those sparkling eyes and he knows that it will never be enough, but it’s something.

Elliott is humming along to the tune, and it makes Zac smile. There’s something almost innocent about him, for all his sophistication. Zac can’t help wondering what his kisses would be like. Gentle and romantic, or passionate? Perhaps both. It’s not something he can allow himself to think about right now, with his lips so close to Elliot’s own. It’s a kind of torture to finally be touching him holding him in his arms, but being unable to do anything about it. But it’s a torture he’d happily endure for the rest of his life.

The dance is over far too quickly. Elliott’s hand drops away from his waist and Zac removes his own from Elliott’s shoulder, but he can’t quite bear to let go of Elliot’s fingers yet. To his surprise Elliot shows no inclination to release Zac either, and they stand there, hand in hand. A weird silence seems to grow between them- a _ loud _ silence. He realises that Elliott looks as nervous as he suddenly feels himself.

“Zac...” Elliott begins, but then Harvey pats his shoulder and the spell is broken.

“Very good for your first dance! Cardio exercise is so vital to the health of the heart.” He frowns at the food table. “Well it is if you don’t stuff yourself on desserts afterwards.”

“I haven’t eaten a thing yet,” says Elliott, gently releasing Zac’s fingers. “I’m famished.”

“Zac?”

“I could eat.”

They’re separated in the crowd around the banquet table. The food is delicious, but Zac barely registers what he’s eating. He can still feel the weight of Elliott’s hand on his waist. His hand still tingles where it touched Elliott’s own. Everyone congratulates him on his dancing, and he’s touched at their kindness. They’d known his Grandfather, true, but he’s a stranger here and they’re clearly doing their best to make him feel welcome.

All the same, he wishes he could have had Elliott to himself a moment longer. He’d been about to say something- but what? Something inconsequential, surely. 

Elliott is sitting with Leah now, heads close together. Elliott frowns and Leah is flinging her arms wide, speaking animatedly. They look almost like they’re arguing, but when the conversation ends, Elliott stoops to kiss Leah’s hand.

Zac’s heart sinks. _ What else did you expect? _

The sun is setting and Vincent and Jaz are asleep on the grass by the time the party breaks up. Early stars stud the sky and the birds call out to one another as the dusk creeps out from between the tree trunks.

Zac offers to help clean up, but Gus shoos him away. 

“Don’t think of it. Dancers don’t have to carry tables. You’ve done your part. Did it very well too for a city-born lad. I expect our customs seem odd to you.”

Zac shrugs. “I think I could get used to them.”

Gus chuckles. “Perhaps you will. Your Grandfather always enjoyed the dance. He’d be pleased to see you, I think. Perhaps he can. The veil between the worlds is thin tonight.”

Zac smiles faintly, not knowing how to respond. Gus is the last person he’d expect this mysticism from, but he supposes it’s part of the fabric of the Valley. If your village includes a wizard, then talking about spirits is barely even mysticism. 

He lingers in the glade until Pierre and Caroline pack the unsold flowers into their cart. He doesn’t even see Elliott leave. He’d thought perhaps he might seek him out to say goodbye, but as usual Zac’s read more into the situation than was ever there.

“Would you like a ride home, dear?” asks Caroline with a yawn. “You danced very well, by the way. I’m glad you decided to join in.”

“So am I,” says Zac, and he’s surprised to find he actually means it, in spite of the wistfulness he feels for the brief moment he shared with Elliott.

”I think I’ll walk home though.”

The moon is bright and he has no trouble finding his way back through the woods. He walks slowly, in the grips of an odd mood that’s half sorrow, half joy. Life here is very strange he decides, but beautiful too. Perhaps even beauty can be sad? Elliott would know- it’s a question for a poet, not a farmer. The lights still burn at Marnie’s house- it isn’t really late yet-but Leah’s little cottage is dark.

_ Perhaps they went back to his cabin on the beach? Maybe he carried her there like a Prince in a romance novel sweeping the maiden over the threshold of his castle. _

There’s no real bitterness to his thoughts though- that will come later. Right now he’s a little drunk on the sweet spring air and the dizzying memory of dancing in Elliot’s arms. _ If nothing else I have the memory. _And for a while it’s pleasant to lose himself in it again.

When the hand lands on his shoulder he shouts in fright, his hand flying to the pommel of his sword.

“Zac! It’s just me. I’m dreadfully sorry to startle you.”

“_Elliott_?”

“I helped Harvey take Leah home, and by the time I headed back, well...it looks like everyone has left.”

“I’m the last one,” says Zac.

“Oh, well it was you I wanted to talk to.”

Zac is almost to amazed to form a reply.

“Thank you for dancing with me today. I never got the chance to say it before. You were an admirable partner, and I know that you didn’t want to.”

“Oh well, with Leah hurt I could hardly say no.”

Elliott shakes his head. “Indeed you couldn’t.” He pauses. “Zac...I feel that there’s something I should tell you.”

“What is it?” asks Zac. He feels as though he’s still lost in his dream.

“Sit with me a while, would you?” Elliott says. 

They sit on the sloping hill above the ranch. The ocean shimmers in the moonlight. A lone gull still cries out and the horizon is tinted a delicate lavender from the retreating sun. It’s a beautiful evening, but Zac only has eyes for Elliott. He knows he shouldn’t stare so openly, but he can’t help himself. The grass is warm and soft, almost like a bed. A bed in which Elliott is sprawled out next to him, impossibly handsome face propped up on his hand as he frowns at Zac, apparently considering what he’s about to say. 

“It’s my fault really,” he says finally.

“What?”

“About Leah. I...I might have told her something, in confidence. And she’s a very determined person. Very determined. But I never imagined that she might...”

“That she might what?” asks Zac. “I don’t understand.”

Elliott sighs again. “This is so embarrassing. I might have told her that....that I was curious about you. That I wanted to get to know you better.”

Zac’s heart is beating very hard and the hill seems to tip gently back and forth beneath him.

“What?”

“I...I enjoy our little chats on the beach. You listen to me. And,” he pauses. “You don’t laugh at the way I talk. And, you’re...” the last part is a mumble that Zac can’t hear.

“I’m what?”

“You’re interesting,” Elliott says.

“Oh.”

“I don’t mean to embarrass you as much as I’ve embarrassed myself,” says Elliott quickly, “but I really had to apologise for Leah’s preposterous behavior! _ Insisting _ you attend the dance today, and then feigning an injury just so that she could persuade you to dance with me. In my defense I had no idea she would do anything like this, but I just can’t live with the dishonesty of it- especially when you responded so chivalrously.”

“Wait, she’s not really hurt?”

“No. I can understand if you’re angry but she truly did it with the best of intentions. She knows how lonely I’ve been, you see. And she thought that perhaps that she could force the two of us together by way of a little ruse.”

Zac’s mind is whirling. He can barely believe what he’s hearing. Elliott thinks he’s interesting? Wants to know him better?

“Are you angry?” Elliott asks.

“No,” Zac chuckles. “It’s actually kind of funny. I never knew Leah was so sneaky.” 

“Neither did I!” says Elliott. “I suspected what she was doing when she arrived wearing that ridiculous bandage, but I was so amazed I hardly knew what to say. And I felt awful putting you on the spot like that, it was too sweet of you to accept.”

“It was my pleasure. Really.”

“I’m...I’m glad.” Elliott says. “I should have just told you myself- that I hoped we might be, well, friends. For one who makes his living with words I can be surprisingly terrible at stringing them together in real life, sometimes.”

“That’s not true,” says Zac. “I could listen to you talk all day.”

His words hang in the air between them. 

“Truly?” asks a Elliott, softly.

“Sure,” says Zac. “I never met anyone like you before.”

Elliott twists a blade of grass around his finger. That silence is back. The heavy silence that demands to be filled with something he doesn’t dare to give credence to.

“I’ve never met anyone like you either,” says Elliott, finally. 

He sits up. “Well. The muse beckons.” His voice is a little unsteady. “Perhaps you’d like to visit me tomorrow? I’ll be at home all day. I know you check your crab pots on Thursday morning, so perhaps you’d care to stop by my cabin for some tea?”

_ He knows I check my pots on Thursday morning? _

Zac knows he shouldn’t let himself get too excited. He knows it as he practically dances back to the farmhouse. He knows it while he shucks off his boots and brushes his teeth. He knows it while he lies awake in his feather bed, reliving Elliott’s hand slipping into his own again and again.

He knows he shouldn’t assume that Elliott feels the way he does, or ever could feel that way. The man is lonely. They’re both new to the Valley. It’s natural that they might become friends.

But perhaps the spirits really have visited Stardew Valley tonight, because _ someone _ has left him a gift.

The gift is hope.

For the first time, he has hope.


End file.
